Shattered Star Campaign

Who is Beren?

The Thoughts of Beren

I knew she was trouble from the moment she walked in the room with Antony. It’s not that the muster room was off-limits to non-worshippers, no room in the Calistrian Temple really was. Even the carnally occupied ones. There were no doors, just sheets that covered the portals from one room to the next. No, I knew she was trouble because of those eyes. I could feel their violet glance from a mile away. She was doing well to avoid staring, actually, she was barely looking at me. But I knew. I had a curse upon me. A curse of violet-eyed women.

I could tell Antony was trying to offer up one of the other men to her. She must have given a hefty donation to the temple just to even visit this room. Antony doesn’t much like to offer the guard to outside hire. Especially not with losing a whole crew a few weeks back. Lucky for me though, they lost some veterans and were desperate for some strong arms with the right disposition.

She didn’t look like any of the women who infrequently visit the temple for a hired guard. When a woman comes here to hire a man who can use a sword its usually a way to get a new man in her bed without raising suspicion from a well-to-do husband. All of those lofty ladies have guards, one more doesn’t raise any eyebrows.

But she didn’t look like one of those pampered women. There was something about her that warned against getting close to her. Besides those eyes, there was nothing outstanding about her appearance. She had the dark, thick, and long hair common to Varisian women. Her skin was also dark, perhaps tanned, perhaps not. It was ale-colored, a rich color, also common in this part of the world. Her face looked neither over or underfed, and its features were all in the right places in the right proportions. If she were to commit a crime, she would be very difficult to describe. Even her garments were non-descript. She wore a white shirt with billowing sleeves, cut to show her shoulders and the curves of the tops of her breasts. They were not overly substantial. Perhaps a handful, one for each hand. Yes.

When Antony walked over to me I was surprised. But not really. Like I said, I had a curse of violet-eyed women in my life. I was surprised that she chose me though. There were at least fifteen men in this room that bore god-like physiques and more practiced sword arms. Usually, the men and women who serve at this temple are discouraged from outside fornication. This is so we are better able to serve those who come to worship here.

Calistrians are known to be primal and voracious lovers, and that reputation was not something that was going to change on Antony’s watch. However, when Antony accepted me on at the Temple he told me that I should seek out partners to couple with. I could tell he did not approve of my round midsection, or the slight layer of fat that covered the rest of me. Another might be ashamed, but I like my ale, and well-cooked food, and I’m not going to apologize for it. He was accepting me here as a guard anyway, not one of his male succubi.

Apparently this non-descript woman did not want one of those men chiseled in marble. Maybe she really was just looking for a guard. But by the way she was evaluating me, I had the feeling that it wasn’t for that purpose. Suddenly I was glad that I had a towel around my waist, but those thoughts of grabbing handfuls of her full breasts just moments ago was cutting down the towel’s effectiveness. Argh! Why did I just think of it again?!

Then he said something about “trying me out.” Now I know how it feels to be sold. I felt maybe slightly indignant for a second. Maybe a second. But this plainly mysterious violet-eyed woman just stood in a room of oily Adonises and picked me, apparently, to fuck. It was hard to be offended. I hadn’t been having much luck finding women anyway. I try not to buy them. Bad memories, of another violet-eyed woman. And I try not to fuck where I work. Also, bad memories of a different violet-eyed woman.

Antony walked us to a room full of pillows that I’d never been in before. My eyes strayed to the table of liquor, put there purposely to lubricate the interaction of strangers. Now that I was in the room with her, I couldn’t look at her. I was her prize, she wasn’t mine. I wanted her, for certain, but it was odd being on the receiving end of this exchange.

When Antony left the room – did he even say anything? I didn’t hear anything if he did – she stood there, with a little grin on her face. She was reading my discomfort, my embarrassment, and she was grinning to herself. This was not a normal woman. Her grin emboldened me to take back the power in the room. SHE wasn’t embarrassed. She was clearly amused! I walked straight up to her and lifted her chin so I could peer at those eyes that were no doubt going to give me quite a lot of trouble, if history repeated itself. There was something unnatural about her eyes. The violet was too sharp, a shade too piercing, coupled with the rest of her more or less ordinary features, they looked even more disturbing. I was in trouble. Big trouble. I spoke to her, “A Varisian woman with violet eyes? I haven’t seen such color since I was last home, and even then it was rare.”

She just grinned at me again; it felt like a threat. She walked over to the table of alcohol and poured me a tall glass of ale. She clearly had me well-evaluated, and that felt even more dangerous. But I wanted that drink. Either the pitcher or the glasses had been enchanted so as to keep the beverage cold, and I was very pleased. She didn’t drink anything, but offered me another after I downed my first. She’s known me for less than a minute, and already had a weakness pegged in me. I was in so much trouble.

We spoke for a few minutes while I finished my second ale. I laughed a lot, out of nervousness. I’ve never really had a woman disarm me like this one has. Usually it’s more clear who has the upper hand in a room with a 6’4” man and a tiny woman. After the second ale I was feeling more comfortable, and as if she predicted the feeling, she poured me a third and then sat down on a large pillow; apparently relaxing. I suddenly realized that she really was actually expecting me to fuck her. This wasn’t a joke set up by Antony to shame me, this wasn’t a trap by the Goddess. I was actually, and truly, bought and paid for by this clearly dangerous woman and she was actually, and truly, wanting ME.

I put the third ale down on the table untouched and knelt before her. I didn’t even catch her name. I wasn’t new to women, I knew what she wanted. Emboldened, I kissed her lips, and her neck and apparently that was the right thing to do.

A few hours later I was still confused about who she was. I did know her name now, and I knew much else about her besides that. I was still convinced that she was dangerous to me. The danger was alluring. She told me of the mission that she meant to set out on. A magical artifact that made women insatiably sexual? Sounds like bullshit. But why would she lie like this to me – seems like she’s gone a little far already if it’s just a trick. Why would she chose me to take that out on? Maybe this was to be my gift of the violet-eyed woman; to counter all the evil that’s befallen me because of the other violet beauties. The others had seemed as gifts in the beginning too. I’m in big trouble.

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NickGuidotti JMarino

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